


A series of accidental interactions

by adreadfulidea



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreadfulidea/pseuds/adreadfulidea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One rainy day Dawn came into the breakroom, umbrella tucked under one arm. She was still wearing her coat and had a handkerchief covering her hair - it was really coming down out there.</p>
<p>Joan was already there, busy with a pot of tea. “Good morning,” she said, without turning around. </p>
<p>Dawn shivered a little. “I don’t suppose there’s any coffee going?”</p>
<p>“No, but I guessed you might want something hot,” Joan said, and Dawn saw that there were two cups sitting on the counter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A series of accidental interactions

Dawn was an early riser. She was one of the first to arrive at work, when the office was still empty and the sunlight coming in the windows was young. Each morning she would nod at the security guard who was half asleep at his desk and take the elevator up by herself. It was nice to wander through the undisturbed silence, getting her head together and her day prepared.

Joan was the only person she saw in that first half hour. They said hello, usually, and exchanged pleasantries. For some reason Joan was less intimidating when it was just the two of them. It was as though she hadn’t quite put her armour on yet.

One rainy day Dawn came into the breakroom, umbrella tucked under one arm. She was still wearing her coat and had a handkerchief covering her hair - it was really coming down out there.

Joan was already there, busy with a pot of tea. “Good morning,” she said, without turning around.

Dawn shivered a little. “I don’t suppose there’s any coffee going?”

“No, but I guessed you might want something hot,” Joan said, and Dawn saw that there were two cups sitting on the counter.

“Thank you,” she said, warming her hands on the cup that Joan handed her. They sat down and Dawn sipped her tea. It was rich and fragrant, smelling something like citrus and flowers - not a blend she’d had before.

“Is your cousin still staying with you?” Joan asked, and smiled in a slow and amused way at Dawn’s exasperated expression.

“She wants me to help plan her wedding,” said Dawn. “I don’t know why people are always asking me to get involved in these things.”

“Because you’re good at it,” said Joan, matter-of-fact.

Dawn snuck a careful look at her; there was no snideness in Joan’s face - it was an honest compliment. She hid her smile behind her teacup so Joan wouldn’t see how pleased she was.

 

Dawn lifted her hand to knock on the door but decided against it. It was open a crack already, and Dawn could hear Meredith’s voice in there, clear and high as a bell.

“... so that was how the letters got mixed up. But don’t worry, Scarlett and I just called ahead. They promise not to open them. I told them there was confidential stuff inside.”

Dawn peeked inside. Joan was resting her chin on her hand, watching Meredith with resigned contempt. Meredith didn’t seem to notice.

Joan had spent all morning in meetings with the other partners and had come out looking worse for the wear. She had worked through lunch, too. She looked wilted, with her bright hair coming loose around her face and her glasses sitting crookedly on the top of her head.

Dawn promptly decided to interfere. She pushed the door open and sailed in as though she hadn’t heard the conversation.

“I’ve been looking for you!” she said cheerily to Meredith. “There’s something at the front desk for you.”

That wasn’t entirely true. A client had dropped off a box of chocolates for the girls in general, but Dawn was willing to sacrifice it for the greater good.

“Really?” Meredith said, frowning in concentration. “From who?”

Dawn shrugged. “Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

Meredith liked that. “Oooh,” she said, eyes going round with excitement. “Can I go see?”

Joan nodded an acknowledgement. That was all it took - Meredith was gone like a kid heading for the tree on Christmas morning.

“I apologize for interrupting,” said Dawn, “but I assumed talking to her wasn’t doing much good.”

Joan let out a short laugh. “We may lose two potential clients because Meredith can’t write an address on an envelope correctly. Schiltz is not going to be happy to get Anheuser-Busch’s mail.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Dawn asked, sitting down in the chair Meredith had vacated.

“Some aspirin wouldn’t go amiss,” Joan said, and rubbed her temples with a wince. “I’m all out.”

Dawn was halfway back with aspirin and a glass of water when inspiration struck. She rushed into Joan’s office and deposited the water and the pill on the desk. “I think I can fix this!” she said, and darted out again. She caught just a glimpse of Joan’s startled face.

The mail had come late this morning because they were short staffed in the mailroom - someone was ill. And if it had come late, there was a chance it might be going out late as well.

She took the elevator down to the basement. It wasn’t hard to convince the mailroom guys to help her dig through the bags - they spent so much time passing paper back and forth that anything else counted as an interesting distraction.

They were lucky. The letters were still there, addressed in Meredith’s overwrought penmanship. When Dawn gave them to Joan she looked at them like they were made of gold, or maybe Dawn was.

After her break Dawn found a package sitting on her desk, wrapped in the plain brown paper they used for parcels. It was a box of Joan’s fancy tea, and a note that simply read: thank you.

She also received a phone call from Michael Ginsberg. “Maybe you don’t know anything about it,” he said, “but why does Meredith think that I bought her chocolates?”

Whoops.

 

The moody weather kept up through April and into May; at the first sign of dryness Dawn joyfully left her umbrella and raincoat at home - of course this meant clouds by noon, and pounding rain well into the evening. She was at the office late, helping Joan sort through archiving for some old tax info. She hoped that would give the rain time to stop, but no such luck.

Joan caught her looking disconsolately out the window. “You’ve got a bit of a journey home, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Dawn. “And no umbrella.”

“I could lend you money for a cab,” Joan offered.

It was very generous, but Dawn didn’t feel comfortable taking her money. Not to mention trying to get a cab on a Friday night. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Joan looked thoughtful. “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? You can head home in the morning. Hopefully this will be cleared up by then, and I’ll lend you an umbrella if not.”

“I - really? I couldn’t impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” said Joan. “You’re so quiet that I doubt I’ll notice you’re there.”

Coming from some people that might have been insulting; Joan made it sound like a compliment. In the end Dawn said yes mostly out of curiosity. She had never seen Joan outside the office - some days it seemed like Joan didn’t _exist_ outside the office. Like a very well dressed genie.

They shared Joan’s umbrella until catching a cab - no subway for Joan Holloway - and arrived at the apartment to find dinner already on the table. That was one benefit to living with your mother, Dawn supposed.

Gail asked an awful lot of questions. Where had Dawn grown up, how long had she been with the company, where did she work before that - Dawn felt like she was at a job interview. The interrogation went on until Joan interrupted. “Are you going to ask for her references, too?”

“Joan, I’m just trying to get to know her,” Gail said, exasperated. She picked up her plate and headed for the sink. “Honestly, you’re so sensitive sometimes.”

Joan rolled her eyes as soon as Gail turned her back. It was such an adolescent gesture that Dawn almost laughed. Nice to see that some frustrations existed for everyone.

It was Dawn and Joan that did the dishes. Dawn would have offered in any case, but Gail leaving for an engagement sealed the deal. Joan was her host, she shouldn’t have to clean up by herself.

“Where is she going?” Dawn asked. Gail had freshened up her makeup before leaving and borrowed some of Joan’s perfume.

“To play cards with the women down the hall,” said Joan. “She says bridge but I say poker - she always comes back about ten dollars lighter.”

They watched television after the cleaning was done. Lucy was on - it was the episode where she told Ricky that she was pregnant. Kevin was napping, curled up with his head in Joan’s lap. She smiled down at him fondly, stroking his fine blond hair.

“I know I should put him to bed,” Joan said, “but I don’t see him all day. I guess I’m just greedy.”

“It must be very difficult,” said Dawn, and then wished she hadn’t put her foot in her mouth quite so plainly. She tried for a save. “I mean that it was hard for my mother, after Daddy died.”

Joan nodded. She didn’t look offended. “It is. And I’m sorry to hear that, about your father.”

Dawn shrugged, feeling very awkward. It wasn’t a subject she relished talking about. “I was pretty young. It was an accident, at work.”

They turned back to the television. Onscreen Ricky, overjoyed by impending fatherhood, was singing _We’re Having A Baby, My Baby and Me_.

“I love this part,” Joan said.

 

Dawn bedded down on the couch in a pair of borrowed pajamas. She slept quite well, waking only once, when Gail came in from her poker night and bumped into an endtable.

“Uh oh,” she said with a giggle. Dawn looked carefully at her - she had gone past tipsy and into plain old drunk.

She was unsteady enough on her feet that Dawn helped her into her bedroom. All the better to avoid waking Joan - or worse, Kevin.

“Thank you, dear,” Gail said as Dawn flicked off the light. Her disembodied voice floated out of the darkness. “I’m glad Joanie has a friend like you.”

 

Joan made breakfast the next morning, eggs and toast and cold orange juice. Kevin had cheerios. She waved off Dawn’s attempts to do anything.

“You’re a guest,” she said. “Sit down and enjoy.”

Gail chose not to join them, preferring to lie in bed with a cold compress on her forehead.

“This is really nice,” said Dawn about halfway through the meal, when Joan was wiping cereal off Kevin’s face. “Much better than the last time I went home with someone from work,” she added, thinking of that terribly uncomfortable evening with Peggy.

Joan stared at her with such open shock that at first Dawn didn’t understand. When she finally did she was horrified.

“Oh my god, Joan,” she said, “I didn’t mean with a _man_.”

Joan laughed, shoulders shaking, until her face turned pink. She put a hand on her chest and steadied herself with several deep breaths. “Can you blame me? That’s exactly what it sounded like.”

“Who would I even - no. I refuse to think about that.”

“Harry Crane?”

“Joan!” Dawn said, outraged, but that just set her off again. Now Dawn was starting to giggle as well, in spite of everything. It was too absurd.

“Scarlett would be so jealous,” said Joan, and that was what finally broke Dawn. Poor dumb Scarlett. She had no idea how obvious she was.

“Don’t put that in my head,” she said, when she could speak like a normal person again. “Oh, that’s mean. You are a mean, mean woman.”

“Girls,” Gail called from the bedroom, “I have a headache. Could you keep it down?”

“Oh, please,” Joan muttered. “Like it’s our fault she’s hungover.”

“I could make her a hair of the dog,” Dawn offered. She never did that herself - but then, she rarely overindulged.

“I prefer to let her suffer,” said Joan.

“I can hear you,” said Gail. She sounded muffled, like she had pulled the blankets up over her head. “And that isn’t a very nice way to talk about your mother.”

Dawn convinced Joan to let her help tidy up once they were done. She soaked the dishes in hot soapy water and put the leftovers in the fridge. Maybe she could treat Joan to a movie, she thought, if Gail recovered enough to keep an eye on her grandson. Not out of gratitude, this time, but because that was what you did - for a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a quote about friendships being formed through a series of accidental interactions. Unfortunately, I can't find the source. But I know I read it somewhere!


End file.
